S01E08 - The Girl in the Fridge
by Jhonnies
Summary: My version of the eighth episode. Zack and Booth find out that sometimes catching a killer is easy. Getting them behind bars is the real trouble. Brennan has her love life shaken up by a former lover coming back to town. But is he truly the way she remembers or has memory erased the hard truths? Follows The Squints in the Picnic. Contains Slash. Rated T for Trial.
1. Introduction

S01E08 – The Girl in the Fridge

**Author Notes****: **This is my forty-eighth story over all. (Look at me go.) I hope you've enjoyed all the other stories. (I know I have).

This is set after S01E07 – The Man on Death Row and after The Squints in the Picnic.

Thank you for reading my head canon. By the way, I love reading reviews, they make me want to keep writing (*Very _**Subtle**_ Hint*).

Roll call for the Reader/Reviewer gallery**: **All Fall Apart, Arieru-chan, Ash Strachey, crazylove1980, emelian65, Excalisnake, Fandom-maniac1667, Fern Rose, grimmich, kitten2010, KSIJ, KTT2123, MysticParadox, Reader's Daughter, RHatch89, Serenity Lhane, Silia, Sonikku28, sweetheart2014 and UrbanBorn.

Keep on reading, I promise to get better on writing.

To emelian65, it does fit his personality. You just can't see it yet. I'm trying foreshadowing things for once. (Soon it will all be made clear).

P.S.

I'll be in the green lands of No-Internet for the following two weeks, so... You already know the drill.

Words in italic, for this introduction, are Hodge's thoughts.

**Disclaimer****: **I do **not **own Bones or any of the characters (All would be made better by slash reigning absolute).

* * *

Introduction

In which Brennan and Angela's past love lives are put under the spotlight.

Forensic Platform

Jeffersonian Institute

Vincent yawned for the third time in only ten minutes, making Zack and Hodge do the same. Again. He knew he shouldn't have stayed up late, but you try resisting Wendell when he has his mind set on something. It wasn't like he was the one on call. No, that was the Brit.

The blond was still in bed when he left and probably was still asleep. He was positively annoyed with his lover.

"I am very close to calling his sister just so she'll get him out of bed." - He hissed. And hey, that was a great idea.

"That's not only mean, it's Angela mean."

Zack chuckled at the entomologist's comment.

"I propose a pause."

"We're all in favor." - He yawned again, drawing out the last word. - "I'll be in the sofa if you need me. But please don't need me."

"I'm coming with you, it's a great chance to see what Brennan's been writing."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Not if you know the password."

They all paused while taking off their latex gloves to say the password.

"Daffodil."

* * *

Doctor Temperance Brennan and Mister Zack Addy's Office

Jeffersonian Institute

The British squint dropped into the couch with a thud. He mentally thanked Brennan for having purchased such a big, comfortable couch.

"Good night." - Another yawn. - "Day..."

Hodge rolled his eyes as he booted up Bones' computer.

"She really should change her password. Or lock the files with another one."

_Like I do with my porn._

"Angela and I have been telling Doctor Brennan that everyone knows her password, but she's adamant about not changing it."

"But she could at least trade the bouquet on the desk. I mean, it makes it too obvious."

Zack raised his shoulders in a 'what-you-gonna-do?' stance before sitting at his desk and fill out paperwork on the skeleton they had been working on.

"Is it morally bad of me to wish for a murder to solve?"

"I think unless you're going to kill someone yourself, you're safe." - He didn't raise his eyes from the computer screen. - "Yes! Found the first three chapters."

"Don't tell me anything, I want to wait until it's finished."

"Not even if she changed your character's sexual orientation? Or if he finally gets with Special Agent Andy Lister?"

"I am not that easily influenced, Hodge."

"We'll see."

Zack once again focused on his job.

Or tried to.

The phone started ringing the moment he started to ignore his roommate.

"Doctor Temperance Brennan's office, how may I help you?" - Trust Hodgins to have no qualms about getting caught meddling. - "No, she isn't in right now. I see. Zack Addy is available, however. Alright."

He used the phone to point at the squint, mouthing 'Journal of Anthropology'.

Zack hesitated for a moment before answering the phone.

"Yes?"

"Is this Mister Zack Addy? One of the writers of the paper on coronal sutures?"

"Yes, I am."

"I'm calling to let you know that your piece is being published on the next edition of the Journal."

"Thank you for calling. I'll tell the others."

"Alright. And congratulations, Mister Addy."

He hung up before turning to the sleeping squint, pride tingeing his words.

"Vincent! We're being published next month!"

"But officer, I didn't even write that! It was Morrison!" - He blinked slowly. - "Sorry. Tell me again after I've slept for a year. At least. Did you know that after 3 days awake you are clinically insane?"

_Only Vincent could spout a fact like that before falling back asleep._

"Oh. I have to find Doctor Brennan and tell her about this."

* * *

Skeleton Room

Jeffersonian Institute

Brennan was sitting on one of the stools of the Bone Room, reconstructing a shattered skull. She smiled as she finally fit another piece of the puzzle. Angela was there as well, if only to feel like she was doing something.

"You won't believe who I ran into this morning. Todd. You remember Todd, right? The bass player with the big hands. Big nimble hands. I told you about him, right?"

"Angela, I'm trying to piece together a skull."

"Yeah, you're doing a great job. Seriously? I didn't tell you about him? Did I at least tell you why I stopped seeing him?"

"No."

"So I wake up this one morning and he's sitting there, right? No clothes on, just his bass. Singing to me in this low, low voice. Completely creeped me out. I didn't even have breakfast; I put my clothes on and was out of there as fast as I could."

"Angela, is this conversation really appropriate here?"

"Sorry, but I'm into alive people. Anyway, after that, I started dating Todd's friend."

"I thought you said he was creepy."

"Todd, not the friend. Well, much. God. I'm glad I'm done with the creepy and I'm only with the weird now. Because, you know, Tempe? Weird is sometimes good. Creepy is never good." - She smiled as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

Zack rushed in.

"Good news."

"I hope this is work-related."

"The American Journal of Anthropology is publishing our piece on the evolution of the coronal suture next issue."

"Worthy interruption."

She grinned, setting down the skull. The squint held out his fist, much to Brennan's confusion.

"You're supposed to bump my fist with yours."

"Why?"

"I'm told it's a widely acknowledged gesture of mutual success."

"Oh."

She gave a shoulder shrug before doing as expected.

"I love it when you two impersonate earthlings."

She was stopped from making any other remarks by a cardboard box-carrier blond squint walking in.

"Okay, I know I'm not really supposed to be here today but I got the idea that Vince was about to cast a curse on me if I didn't wake up" - He started to mutter to himself. - "or worse, call my sister. And because I had nothing better to do, I decided to come here."

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, there's some guy in the lounge who asked me to give you this."

"To me?"

"No, Angela." He slid the box across the table. - "To Doctor Brennan of all people."

"Is he alive? Because this is an excellent start to a relationship."

"I didn't put a mirror underneath his nose or anything." - He turned to Bones. - "He said you'd know who he was when you opened it."

Brennan teared the lid off the package and pulled out a mini-vacuum cleaner. She paused, staring at the appliance before shoving it back in the box, placing it beside the skull and running out of the room, most uncharacteristically.

"Okay, a guy who gets her to stop working? This I have to see."

Angela followed her fast, as did the other squints. Although Zack was a bit late, for he had to put the skull back in its plastic box.


	2. Chapter 1

S01E08 – The Girl in the Fridge

**Author Notes****:**I change the character highlighted on each scene. Words in italic are their thoughts.

Sorry for taking so long in getting this chapter out; I was creating a buffer so I could post a chapter a week.

Main characters in each scene are Zack Addy (The Fridge and The Chem Labs), Angela Montenegro (The Sketch), Seeley Booth (The Files) and Temperance Brennan (The Dessert).

* * *

Chapter One

In which they get a new case straight out of Fairfax

Forensic Platform

Jeffersonian Institute

Brennan stopped running, as to not attract attention to herself; but she was walking in her own decided walk, which was a good way of getting around without anyone interrupting her. Yeah. People in the lab learned to steer clear of her when she walked like that.

She looked up when she heard a familiar voice saying 'You left it at my place'.

He still preferred to wear light blue jeans. His hair line had receded a bit, but that was expected. And the black jacket he wore only when teaching at the university had made a comeback.

Michael Stireshad on the cocky smile that had made her pay even more attention to his class.

"Three years ago."

"Huh. First time I've been in Washington. I thought I should return it in person."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"What if you didn't take my call?" – He leaned on the railing. – "You're a big important author now."

_That sounded patronizing to me._

"You can come down here, you know."

"You could come up."

She paused, considering.

"Halfway."

"As always."

All the squints were watching the display. Even Vincent, who Hodgins had unceremoniously woken up. The Brit was divided into glaring daggers into the entomologist's back and observing Brennan and her friend.

Michael swaggered down, as if he owned the place. Angela thought that if he fell, she wouldn't be able to stop laughing. Bones met him halfway, at the bottom of the stairs:

"I hope you don't have any expectations."

"Do you?"

"Civility."

"I can handle that."

The way Brennan kept smiling was unnerving the watching squints. It was odd and unsettling, to use Hodgins' words.

"So why are you here?"

"George Washington University wants to talk to me about heading their Anthropology Department."

"They'd be lucky to get you."

"I assumed they tried you first."

_Of course they did, I picked up that call._

"I already have a job."

"This is like watching cars mate." – The Bug Man whispered in his lover's ear.

She stifled a giggle.

"It's gotta be Michael. Stires, her forensic anthropology professor from Northwestern. They were-"

"Very, very close?"

She nodded at Wendell.

"And by 'very, very close' you mean…"

"Very, Vincent. I think they might've moved in together. Now, sh. I want to hear this."

"It seems like we should have dinner tonight, catch up?"

"Sounds reasonable. But then again, you always did, Temperance."

"Hey, Bones! Whoa!" - Booth walkedin behind a rusted refrigerator being hauled by an FBI technician. – "Okay. Put it here. Easy."

All the squints gathered around the fridge and the tech saluted them before leaving.

"Hello, Seeley."

"Hey, Zack." – He let a small smile take over his face, before reverting back to normal. – "Bones, I got a present for ya. Straight out of an illegal ravine on a dump in see, our forensic people confirmed it was human matter. So, rather than open it myself and risk being trashed by you for contaminating the evidence, I decided to bring the whole refrigerator to you guys."

"What we need is a toaster oven."

"Very funny, Bug Boy. Now, if you'll excuse me." – He gave his lover a quick peck on the nose before being pulled by his tie to a real kiss.– "Bones?"

Brennan had walked up to the fridge,sniffing around the door like a kidaround a cookie-baking oven.

"The body's going to be mostly decomposed."

"Which is my cue to leave. Bye!" – Angela took refuge in her office, as she often did.

"This is where it gets fun."

Booth raised an eyebrow at the stranger.

"Alright, you can open it."

"Alright." – He pried open the fridge door with a crowbar. Inside are the partially liquefied remains of a decomposing skeleton. The FBI agent stepped back as Brennan and Zack moved closer. – "Whoo, okay. Uh, he or she?"

"She." – The squint slapped latex gloves on, kneeled close to the cadaver and moved the skull a bit. – "Caucasian."

Michael offered his two cents:

"Late teens, early 20s."

"I'm guessing she's been in the refrigerator for a year." – Brennan turned to Hodgins. – "Is there enough insect activity to help us be more precise?"

It was textbook the way she jumped at the chance to show her former lover that she had only gotten better with time like those red wines both enjoyed drinking together.

"There's always enough insect activity." – He swabbed the victim's thoracic cage.

"Please remove and clean the bones." – She said to no one in particular. – "Michael, you can pick me up at 7:30. I'll give you my address."

She stood up and walked away, not missing his comment of 'Beautiful lab'. He followed her, not missing her thanks.

When Zack approached him, the FBI agent finally asked what he wanted to know ever since walking in.

"Old friend?"

"Old teacher. Or, if you want to be more accurate, old lover."

"Really? Good for her. Wait. They're actually going to, uh, eat dinner after seeing this? Well, I hope it's not soup. Anyway, I gotta go."

" Booth? Could I impose on you before you leave?"

"What is it?" - Vincent pointed at the fridge with an open hand.– "Right. Wendell, help me with it."

"Couldn't you have found a body in something lighter? Like cardboard?"

"Careful with what you wish for."

* * *

Doctor Temperance Brennan and Mister Zack Addy's Office

Jeffersonian Institute

Brennan was sitting at her desk, typing more of her newest novel. She knew just what should happen next and was determined to get it down on paper before her dinner with Michael. Kathy Reichs, her main character, would join forces with her best friend to get Andy Lister and William Saul together.

Sure, some people wouldn't like her new book, but it was more about the story than about the profit.

Angela walked in carrying her sketchbook, breaking her friend's concentration.

"Here's a sketch of the victim." – The artist handed Brennan the drawing. – "Her skull was intact so it made it easy to work with."

She looked at it for a good while before holding up a file she had on her desk.

"I just got her dental records. Name, Maggie Schilling. Nineteen."

"Then I guess you don't need this."

"She was a dancer. Bone markers in her metatarsals."

"God, to go from the freedom of dance to being crammed into a refrigerator. - She sighed. – "I hope she was already dead when they shut the door."

"I do too."

Angela sat down and changed the subject:

"He's hotter than you said, by the way."

"Michael?"

"Any other ex-lovers come knocking on your door today?"

"The 'ex' in ex-lover is not a variable. It's a constant, like the speed of light."

"Save your dirty talk for the hunky professor."

"I can assure you, our relationship is purely platonic." – The anthropologist didn't see Angela rolling her eyes. – "What we share is a love of science. Neither of us has the time or inclination for emotional complications."

"Sounds very reasonable."

_Too bad relationships never are._

"Yes. I have to get this data together for Booth."

"Sure." – Brennan knew that she was off the hook only temporarily at best when her friend stood up to leave. – "Have a good dinner tonight. Oh, and be sure to get some dessert."

_If you know what I mean._

* * *

Special Agent Seeley Booth's Office

J Edgar Hoover Building (FBI)

He could smell her citric perfume from the moment she opened the glass door.

Brennan carefully placed the file on the victim on the corner of Booth's table. She refused the seat he offered her, standing close to the exit.

_It's almost like she's trying to get away from this._

Open on his computer, Booth had his own file on Margaret Schilling, since she had been kidnapped before ending up in that fridge.

"Maggie Schilling went missing 11 months ago." – He held up a photo in which the brown haired girl was smiling. Then he lifted another, this one with her in the outfit for Giselle. – "Her parents got a ransom note demanding a million dollars. Negotiations, they dragged on for, oh, a couple of weeks. Then suddenly all contact stopped. The assumption was that the kidnappers killed her."

Brennan looked down at her file sitting on the corner of her partner's desk.

"No visual physical trauma."

"Cause of death?"

"Not yet, but there are stress fractures on both wrists and the three" – By which she meant the team of Zack, Vincent and Wendell. – "are running chemical analysis and toxicity screens on the effluent in the refrigerator."

"Okay. You'll call me later?"

Brennan smiled, with just a hint of condescending.

"I'm not working tonight. I have a dinner."

"What? Wow. I just assumed that the two of you would be eating off an autopsy table."

"Not tonight."

"I was being… Never mind, I'll just drop by and find out how things went."

The hint dropped from her face, a new smile shinning on it.

It was the same smile she had on her face the day she had slept with Charlie back in Aurora.

_She's getting lucky with her teach. _

_Nice._

* * *

Chemistry Laboratories

Jeffersonian Institute

It wasn't cold or sterile like the FBI agent had imagined it would be. It was more like a geeky teenager's room. The posters of Marie Curie, Niels Bohr and Rosalind Franklin looked over the three squints still working.

"It will take the entire night for the labs to finish running."

_Maggie shouldn't have to wait any longer._

"I like being here. I have to give it to them, this place is awesome."

Vincent nodded at his lover's remark.

"Sadly, they would expel us from here if we stayed too long."

"Whoa, nice place." – Booth crossed the room, admiring the different furniture. – "Why don't you guys have a place like this?"

"Because it would be a race to see who would scream at us first, Doctor Brennan or Doctor Goodman." – Vincent smiled in his own shy way, the way that practically screamed that it was a true smile. – "Of all the crew in the forensics department, only Angela is allowed to go overboard with decorations."

"Figures." – The words he heard his squint say when coming in the room registered. – "That means we can go home, right?"

"Yes, Seeley."

Zack got up, giving a look to the other two men in the room.

"Go have fun, we can close up here."

He avoided Wendell's gaze because the rose shade on his face got darker as he murmured 'Thank you, I will'.

* * *

Doctor Temperance Brennan's Apartment

Washington D.C.

His hand was warm trailing up her back. His kisses tasted the same somehow. His touch was slightly rougher, but still soft enough to spark up some memories.

"We missed our reservation."

_And I was actually looking forward to dinner._

Michael sat up.

"Ah, well. That's the price we pay for scientific exploration and discovery."

"You realize this is just recreational, Michael."

"Of course. I'm just impressed that we can just pick up where we left off like no time has passed."

"Well, time is an imposed construct."

"Well, it's nice to know we can rely on physics."

Brennan laughed, moving closer to her lover. He put his arm around her.

"You really think you'll move here?"

"Depends on the offer."

"Maybe I could get you a position at the Jeffersonian."

Michael laughed as well, only with depreciation for the woman joking with him:

"Working for my old student."

"Would that be a problem?"

"Well, we're better when we're not vying for dominance in the same arena."

"I can't help it if I'm usually right."

"Does that mean you've closed the case on that girl in the fridge?"

Her mood soured, her smile disappearing as quickly as his comment hit her ears.

"I found some stress fractures on the wrist, not much else. But I will."

"Same old confident Brennan."

"I'm sorry, is school in session?"

He raised the upper part of his body enough to reach in for a kiss.

"Old habits die hard."

"She did fight, Michael. They kept her tied up like an animal... but she fought. That's how she got those stress fractures because she was bound and struggling. I just-" -She sighed, laying her head down on his chest. – "I keep seeing her face." - Michael wrapped his arms around her. – "You know how it is."


	3. Chapter 2

S01E08 – The Girl in the Fridge

**Author Notes****:**I change the character highlighted on each scene. Words in italic are their thoughts. Underlined words are other character's thoughts.

The main scene in this chapter is the first time I ever wrote a scene with thoughts from more than two characters. There are exactly five different people thinking in this scene.

Main characters in each scene are Vincent Nigel-Murray (The Gallows), Temperance Brennan (The Parents), Seeley Booth (The Endocrinologist) and Zack Addy (The Creepy Couple).

* * *

Chapter Two

In which the squints meet Brennan's former teacher and two guilty suspects.

Forensic Platform

Jeffersonian Institute

The squint squad was around the skeleton, apparently working. Truth is, they were shooting the breeze until Brennan showed up or called them. Zack, Vincent and Wendell were the Hodgins was perched on the railing besides the chair Angela was on:

"Using a refrigerator to hide a body. It's kinda perfect, isn't it?"

"Good way to remove a victim without being detected." –Zack kept his eyes darting between his friends and the stairs. – "Rubber gaskets seal in the odor."

Angela rolled her eyes while freeing her hair from the ponytail it was in.

"Maybe the company should use that in their ads."

"Only Electrolux keeps the corpse smell in for maximum crispness."

"That was awful, Hodgins." – The blond grinned. – "How about 'Don't you just hate when your victim stinks up your kitchen? We have the solution.'"

"You call that an ad? Noobs." – The artist tied her hair back up. – "New fridge, now with temperature regulated drawers. Now you can keep your dismembered cadavers cold enough. Rest in pieces."

Vincent and Zack stared at each other before focusing on the skeleton on the table.

_Gallows humor. I guess we all have different ways of dealing with it._

"She's late. She's never late."

"You worried about her, Ange?"

"I'm happy for her." – She undid her hair for the umpteenth time while answering her lover.

"Why?"

"Remember that time you were late, Z-man?"

"Oh." – I told Seeley that we did not have enough time. – "Yeah."

Brennan walked up the platform,with Michael following her.

"Good morning, all."

She stepped up to the table as the male squints moved to the top of the stairs, blocking the teacher on his way up. Theyall stared him down. Granted, Wendell's gaze was scarier than the others', but that was probably just because of his size.

"You can take the day off, Sweetie. You deserve one day."

"Michael wanted to look at our equipment."

"I'm gonna let that one go." – She pointed at the entrance, where the men were still locked in a battle of wills. – "The guys wanted to meet him anyway."

"They could learn a lot from him."

I doubt it, but hey… If I was the one 'interviewing' him, he would run away. I'm just that scary.

"You were Brennan's professor?" – Wendell raised an eyebrow.

"She was 23. An adult."

"That's what Clinton said."

After Hodgins' comment, it was Zack's turn.

"You run through a lot of students?"

"That was a long time ago and Tempe was very advanced. More colleague than student."

Michael pushed between Vincent and his best friend with more strength than necessary, forcing the two squints to regain footing. Wendell took to glaring at the egomaniacal dumbass that had almost thrown his over on the floor.

"It amazes me that you can be smart and still be morally corrupt."

"Oh, burn." – The Bug Man laughed, hitting the Brit in the arm, before going back to the table.

"Do you think we should warn her?"

That her guy's a complete jerk who's gonna break her heart?

"We have no proof, Dell."

"That's okay." – He exhaled loudly. – "I don't think I've ever seen her this happy."

"I have. Aurora."

"This is going to come back and bite us in the ass, right?"

Vincent and Zack answered in unison:

"Let's hope not."

They joined the others.

"What have you found?"

"X-rays reveal low bone density and the parathyroid hormone levels are also low." – The assistant passed Brennan an envelope containing x-rays. She took them out and looked at them. – "There is a medical condition called hyperparathyroidism."

"Symptoms include muscle weakness, brittle bones. Yeah, I know."

_All it took for her personality to revert was one night with her former lover. Interesting._

"You may be premature with your struggle theory."

"I doubt that."

"You mean you don't want to be doubted."

Angela and Hodgins exchanged looks that said 'this will not end well'.

"I can take it."

"The wrist fractures could've resulted from her medical condition."

"Unlikely. However-"

Michael cut her off:

"Or been an unrelated cause of nontraumatic fissures."

The squints not involved with the fight took a couple of steps back.

"Nontraumatic? Look at these."

"It's something to consider. The last thing you want to do is jump to conclusions without evidence. I mean, I know how much you want to find out who did this."

"This seems like an appropriate moment to discuss human goop." – The entomologist mentally rolled his eyes at Brennan's expression of utterly annoyance with Michael. – "Chemical analysis of the liver and kidney tissues revealed significant evidence of the narcotic hydromorphone."

"Hydromorphone?"

"Also known as hospital heroin. It can be administered orally, intramuscularly, intravenously, subcutaneously, intranasally, rectally, sublingually, transmucosally, and there are experiments for it to be absorbed through the skin." – Vincent had counted the ways on his fingers. – "It was first developed in 1924 Germany, but it was introduced to mass market two years later."

"In what kind of concentration?"

"Given her probable size and weight, it's fatal."

The artist felt she had been quiet for far too long.

"Where did you go to dinner last night?"

"We wound up staying in. We need to know if that amount was accrued over time or delivered in one large dose."

"You didn't come back to the lab, did you?"

"I made frittata."

Hodgins started glaring at the man who'd spoken.

Oh, God. I want to take them both out back and shoot them. I actually prefer Zack and Booth's sappy talking in lyrics or Vince and Wendell's constant need for contact than these two's deranged relationship.

"We also need to know how the hydromorphone was administered."

"I should get going. I'm meeting with the board at the university. Call you after my appointment. It was nice meeting you all."

As he left, the squint squad gathered on the side of the table opposite Brennan.

"What? Is it so odd for everyone to see me with a man?" – They all nodded. – "Print out the levels of hydromorphone you found in her system." - She turned to the anthropologist squints. – "I want you to find the overload point that would cause the stress fractures in her wrist and examine the left ilium. There seems to be some kind of degeneration on the edge."

Bones walked away.

"Show of hands, who wants him to stay unemployed and leave?" – Hodgins looked around to see four hands raised besides his own. – "Not just me, then."

* * *

Mr. George and Mrs. Katherine Schilling's House

Washington D.C.

Booth went to the Jeffersonian to pick up his partner and his squint so that they could go to the victim's parents' house. The couple listened to the FBI agent's bad news before asking for them to come in.

"I know it sounds terrible, but I hoped that she had just run away." – Mrs. Schilling's voice broke midsentence. – "That way I could believe she was still alive."

Gold rimmed glasses. That was what had imprinted on Zack's mind about the father of the victim. It spoke to the literature scholar because of its use in one of the books he had read. Like T.J. Eckleburg, his eyes were also hollow blue.

"She started turning against us in high school. Did a lot of drugs. We tried to help her. Sent her to rehab, therapy."

"Kids have a lot to contend with these days."

Katherine Schilling, on the other hand, had light green eyes. The color of grass after being cut down by a big blade. Zack and Booth could see that she was about to cry. She was expressive in the way that her husband wasn't. Where his eyes seemed like a desert's sky, hers tried to drown themselves in unshed tears.

"We didn't help her, not really. We had nannies to raise her because we were so busy and we sent her to shrinks when she had problems instead of talking to her."

"You can't blame yourself."

"Environment plays a huge role in development."

Bones' comment successfully silenced the room. Booth cleared his throat as Zack started talking.

"I'd like some pictures of Maggie so we can compare them with her remains. Pictures of her dancing or swimming would be most helpful."

Mrs. Schilling walked to a nearby bookshelf, picked up a scrapbook and began to look for pictures. The squint stood beside her, smiling at some photo or other.

"How do you know she danced and swam?"

"Some things can't be erased from the body."

_One of the maxims of anthropology. I think I am a good teacher for Zack. He's very smart but he still has a long way to go._

"I'm sorry, but I need to ask you about your daughter's drug problems." – The former sniper readjusted himself on the armchair he was on. – "Do you know what she was using?

"Alcohol, ecstasy, marijuana."

"What about the narcotic hydromorphone? Hospital heroin?"

"Doesn't sound familiar."

"The commercial name for it is Dilaudid."

George Schilling shook his head again.

"She had a thyroid condition." – Brennan got her hair out of her face. – "Was anything prescribed for that?"

"Her endocrinologist might know." - Katherine Schilling handed Zack the three photographs they'd picked. He gave them to Brennan. – "We have to find who did this to Maggie. We have to do this for her."

_She looked like me._

* * *

Doctor Nicholas Skinner's Office

Washington D.C.

Nicholas Skinner was your run of the mill doctor. Receding hairline, dyed hair, light color tie. Booth had seen more than his share of people like him during his career with the FBI. But in one point he differed from most doctors the former sniper had met: he truly cared for his patients.

He knew that because not once did the doc have to resort to the file on Maggie Schilling, which never left the steel cabinet beside them.

"Maggie's condition didn't respond to medication. I was trying to get her to agree to surgery when she disappeared."

"What types of medication are we talking about?" – Brennan was in her element.

"Furosemide, pamidronate. I tried various calcitonins."

"What about hydromorphone?" – Zack was also in his element.

Dr. Skinner shook his head.

"There are no pain issues associated with hyperparathyroidism but I knew Maggie had a drug problem. She was definitely interested in getting some opiates from me. She bribed my office manager for samples."

Booth shared a look with his lover before turning back to the doctor.

"I'm gonna need your office manager's home address."

"Ex-office manager." – The endocrinologist opened a drawer and pulled out a notebook. – "She's gonna be what you call a disgruntled employee."

_Disgruntled and with access to opiates._

_Motive and opportunity._

* * *

Mr. Scott and Mrs. Mary Costello's House

Washington D.C.

Mary Costello made Zack uncomfortable. Not because of her attitude, but because of her almost presence. When she looked at you, she was there but not at the same time. She was a human Schrodinger's cat. She lacked feline grace, however.

Her light brown hair covered her shoulders until she shook, showing them along with a smug look.

"I didn't give Maggie those samples. She boosted them herself. Skinner just blamed me so he's have an excuse to fire me."

"Why did he fire you?"

"Because he's a horn-dog." – Booth barely managed to still his scoff at her answer to his question. – "I tried to keep things professional. You know what I mean?"

Brennan changed the topic:

"Doctor Skinner said that you were closer to Maggie Schilling than any other patient."

"Did you meet her parents?"

"Yes."

"Then you know the poor girl was pretty much on her own. We took her in."

"He said that you went out together" – Zack ran a hand through his hair. – "that you took her to clubs."

_That isn't the same thing as taking her in._

Scott Costello was the crossbreed between a rat and a pervert. The analogy came to the FBI agent's mind the moment he saw them man with small eyes, big nose and this creepiness about him.

He could say what exactly it was, but it was there.

"We just felt sorry for her, you know?"

The former sniper left the new age living room they were in and walked into the kitchen.

"She was lonely so we showed her a good time, right?"

Scott looked at Mary as if he needed validation for that simple sentence. She nodded:

"One weekend we took her on a road trip."

"Yeah, the three of us ended up in Atlantic City. Totally crazy-"

"Atlantic City doesn't seem an appropriate-" – Brennan cut him off, before being cut off by the other woman in the room.

"It's not like we planned it." – She had her smug look on her face once again, not knowing that the FBI agent was pushing against the new fridge, revealing marks on the floor from an older model. – "Pills, vodka, weed."

"Mary wanted Maggie to go to meetings. You know? A.A."

Booth walked back into the living room.

"That's very kind of you. Let's talk about your new refrigerator."

The woman scoffed:

"Why?"

"Mainly I'd like to know what happened to your old one, huh?"


	4. Chapter 3

S01E08 – The Girl in the Fridge

**Author Notes****:**I change the character highlighted on each scene. Words in italic are their thoughts. Underlined words are other character's thoughts.

A double feature for you guys today because I'm doing another one of my hiatus.

This time to focus on my studies. The test I have to take to get into medical school is next month, so don't expect anything new from me until December.

Why December, you ask? I'm also taking part in this year's NaNoWriMo.  
(More updates on that as the story takes form).

Main characters in each scene are Zack Addy (The S&M), Seeley Booth (The Promise), Temperance Brennan (The Bet), Vincent Nigel-Murray (The Codes) and Angela Montenegro (The Unprofessional).

* * *

Chapter Three

In which Brennan wins a bet and the subject for Zack's first dissertation is revealed.

Mr. Scott and Mrs. Mary Costello's House

Washington D.C.

FBI agents and technicians were all over the Costello's home, carrying out boxes of evidence and taking pictures all around. Zack joined Booth and Brennan in the living room.

"Well, the fridge we found Maggie in is a match with the marks on the Costello's floor. Vincent sent me the pictures of the fridge's feet."

"I wonder how he got those."

"Well, according to his text, he had Wendell and Hodgins tip the refrigerator enough for him to take photographs of it."

"I wish I could see that."

"He also says that Angela has it all on tape."

"He's a very smart kid, I'll give you that."

_At the very least, he's extremely thorough._

Brennan nodded.

"Have you had Angela back you up on that?"

"Yes."

She changed topics while the two men realized that the longer she stayed away from Michael, the more she acted as her new self.

"They're sadomasochistic fetishists."

"Yeah." – The FBI agent picked a nearby box. – "Turned the basement into a fun room. I've met some serial killers who would be proud of those two."

Brennan reached into the box:

"Seeking sexual gratification through the manipulation of power." - She pulled out a spiked collar, giving it an odd look.– "Probably the oldest of fetishes, master-slave. It's all about dominance."

Zack received the collar.

"There is a difference between sadomasochism and the perversion of it that society receives from uninformed people." – He dropped it back into the box. – "It is not all about dominance. Most of the members of that society I've talked to say that it is about trust above all. Trust that the other person will not cross any lines that shouldn't be crossed."

"How do you know all of that?" – Brennan raised an eyebrow at Booth, even though he had nothing to do with that.

"My paper for the University was about the S&M culture and how it is portrayed in the media."

_Badly. There was this one series of books that depicted an unhealthy relationship and labeled it a sadomasochistic love story. There was no love or S&M on those three books._

"Well, this version of it only comes up when the bloom comes off the rose, if you know what I mean."

"I don't know what you mean." – Both forensic anthropologists were stumped.

"You know, when the regular stuff- when it gets old, you need to spice it up, it's over. When sex is good, you don't need any help. You know, from one of these." – He picked up a black mask with a zipper for a mouth. – "Come on, this is just creepy."

Bones grinned.

"Oh, that's for sure."

"I'm sorry?"

"I was agreeing with you about the sex."

"Yeah? Well, don't. Okay? It kinda freaks me out. Like this mask."

"I was just saying that I myself feel no inclination toward either pain or dominance when it comes to sex."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Because you can be very bossy." – He turned away before she got a whip from the box and hit him. He answered by pulling out a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs from a box and holding them up. – "Look at him, huh?" – He pointed at Scott Costello being led away by a couple of officers. – "Whoo! Look at him. All smiley. I bet he just loves these things."

Brennan took the handcuffs from him.

"These could explain the stress fractures."

At Booth's look of confusion, Zack clarified it.

"Her bones were brittle from the disease. Struggling would cause the cracks we saw."

* * *

Interrogation Room

J Edgar Hoover Building (FBI)

James Meredith was an easy man to annoy. Booth managed that just by smirking from across the table while Brennan leaned against a wall. Zack was intrigued by the wrinkles on the lawyer's face. There were far too many for a thirty year old. But then again, if the cases he took were all like this, it would account for them.

The squint started:

"The handcuffs are consistent with the injuries to Maggie Schilling's wrists."

"Maybe she wanted to be cuffed." – Mary's fiery mood was met with Zack's calm contempt. – "Did you ever think about that?"

_She needs someone to react submissively to her, so she went for the weakest looking person in the room._

_Boy, she's in for a surprise._

"Here's what I was thinking. Female, dominant, strapped for cash, meets wealthy teenager on the outs with her parents. Convinces her submissive husband to hold her for ransom."

Meredith's wrinkles got more pronounced:

"Any proof or is this story time?"

"You feed her pills to keep her quiet and negotiations, they drag on. So she dies of an overdose before an exchange can be made. You seal her up in a refrigerator, dump her in a ravine, and you and your honey go back to playing 'tie me up' in the basement."

"Maggie Schilling was legally an adult. We don't deny she was in the house, even cuffed. We don't deny there was a perfectly legal sexual relationship which, by its nature, got rough, but Maggie was a willing participant."

"And enthusiastic."

"You have no evidence my clients killed her."

"It's weird for you, huh?" – Booth ignored the lawyer, as usual. – "Being the one that's all locked up."

Mary leaned forward on the table, getting in the FBI agent's personal space.

"The way you come at me... are you threatened or do I turn you on?"

Zack intercepted her hand as it came up to fondle his lover's arm.

"Try this again and you'll lose it."

"Was that a threat, Mister Addy?" – Mary Costello flashed her teeth.

"No. A threat implies I won't follow through." – Zack smirked at her. – "Make no mistake, it was a promise."

He and Mary were locked glaring at one another. She looked away first.

_That's my Zack._

The forensic anthropologist shared a look with her partner.

"If you don't have anything but those cuffs, my clients will be out of here in 24 hours."

"48."

"What?"

"48 hours. It's 24 from the moment they are formally charged. And the US Attorney has 24 hours to charge them."

"And they haven't been charged yet, they're being hold as material witnesses, because as you just admitted, they had a relationship."

Booth and Zack bumped fists under the table.

* * *

Jeffersonian Institute

Washington D.C.

Brennan and Michael walked around the lab, much to the others' chagrin.

"I figured it out. I was right about how she got those fractures."

"I just don't have the time, Tempe. I have an appointment."

"I thought you'd want to see. The university can wait a few minutes."

"It's not with them." – He looked at his watch again. – "It's with someone they want me to meet. And if we start debating evidence, I'll definitely be late."

"Trust me, there's nothing to debate. I can prove that Maggie Schilling was bound in fur-covered handcuffs. We found strands of matching fur embedded in her wrists and the scaphoid and the lunate."

"But you can't prove that she was involuntarily restrained."

"Oh, yes, I can."

"It's not a competition."

"No, The Olympics are a competition." – She smirked. – "Ours is a struggle to the death."

Michael held out his hand.

"Want to bet dinner?"

Brennan paused, considering it.

"Yes." – They shook hands. – "If we make it to a restaurant."

_I hope we do._

"Bet's on." – His laugh was patronizing as he checked his watch another time. – "You got 10 minutes."

"Okay. It's all I need."

Forensic Platform

Jeffersonian Institute

Wendell and Booth were playing table tennis on the table currently unoccupied by human remains. Zack and Vincent were multitasking, watching the game, keeping score and uploading pictures of Maggie onto the Jeffersonian computer system.

The ones they'd taken and the one Katherine Schilling gave them.

"Code black." – Hodgins walked by. – "Repeating, code black."

The blond grabbed the small ball as fast as he could while the Brit placed the paddles in one of the drawers.

_As fun as this is, I keep wondering if someday we're going to get caught._

"Does code black mean that Bones is coming?" – The former sniper helped his lover fold the net neatly. – "Or is it something worse?"

"Much worse." – Zack put it alongside the paddles and the ball, closing the drawer. – "It means Doctor Brennan is with Michael Stires. Code yellow is the one for Doctor Brennan alone."

"What about orange and red?"

"Doctor Goodman and Angela, respectively."

"Nice."

Brennan swiped her card and they walked up to the three and Booth.

"Pull up the frontal and lateral view of the victim's lower fibulas." – Vincent sat down at the computer, his foot on the front of the drawer of the hidden gaming apparel. - "Please."

He nodded before getting to work. A few steps away from them, the agent sparked a conversation with the former teacher of his partner.

"You trained her well, Doc."

"She's brilliant. Little cocky, though."

"Yeah. Tell me about it."

"Here's the left." – The black haired squint found one of the pictures he was asked to locate. – "Oh. I see where you're going with this."

_And I would bet good money that Zack had already seen these and noticed it._

"Pretty good partner though."

"And here's the right."

"I'm not seeing it." – Wendell scratched his head. – "Oh, wait. Is it-"

"Yes." – Brennan cut him off.

"What you see is what you get. That's a rare quality." - Zack has it too. Booth smiled. - "That's just between us, isn't it?"

Vincentturned his chair around to face the other men after the All-American squint whistled loudly.

"Doctor Brennan found marks on the medial malleoli, both left and right."

"Her legs were bound." – Zack provided the translation.

"Mirror erosion patterns from the bones rubbing together over time." – The blond's statement was self-explanatory.

"If this were the result of sex games, then the legs, they wouldn't be bound together." – Michael stared at Booth. – "Well, come on, you know? Looking for a little nooky, the last thing you'd tie together are the legs."

"I'm not convinced." – The teacher looked back to his former student, shrugging. - "Brittle bones from her thyroid condition. The damage could've happened in a very short time."

Brennan walked to the table before motioning for him to come closer.

"We also found evidence of inflammation on her right humerus and ilium."

"The bone abnormalities indicated pathosis from lying in one position for a long time."

"The only reasonable explanation is long-term bondage." – The FBI agent showed that he paid attention when Zack told him that before the ping-pong match.

"Decreased bone density could've caused the inflammation. This isn't definitive." – He missed the glare the squint squad gave him. – "I hear there's a nice little French place near here I'd like to try."

"I still have five minutes."

Brennan marched off the platform, being followed by her partner and her lover/rival.

* * *

Angela Montenegro's Office

Jeffersonian Institute

The Angelator was fulfilling its function to amaze and to arouse envy at the employees of other institutions. The golden hologram it displayed was Maggie lying on her side. After picking up his jaw from the floor, Michael commented:

"My department's still working with Polaroids."

"So what do you think?"

"Very to the nonprofessional."

"Nonprofessional? I built this." – _If you weren't seeing my friend, jackass…_ – "You want science? Give me the estimated time of captivity."

"Approximately three weeks."

Angela made a few adjustments according to her best friend's instructions. The girl became flecks of golden dust and in her place only a skeleton was left. Another couple of commands highlighted the left arm and the hips.

"Okay, here are your affected areas. Now during an advanced time simulation…"

The bones deteriorated as the squint squad had predicted. Booth stepped up behind Brennan:

"You're winning, right?"

She nodded, missing Michael's scowl.

"Can I see your findings?"

The anthropologist handed him a file while the artist shut down her invention.

"This appears to be indisputable." – He grudgingly admitted, after scanning the papers he was given.

The women took turns narrating the events of hydromorphone nature.

"The narcotic found in her system was not the result of recreational drug abuse."

"The inflammation would've been very painful and the pain would've increased over time."

"They kept upping the dose of hydromorphone until they gave her too much and she died. Those people bound and killed that girl."

"I yield." – Michael sighed. – "French restaurant?"

"I'm more in the mood for Italian. I need to put together the evidence packet for Booth to deliver to the U.S. Attorney."

"I'll meet you at your place."

Michael returned his former student's file before walking away, stomping smiled as Booth held out his fist.

"Good work."

"I know this one." – She bumped his fist with hers. – ""Zack told me it's a widely acknowledged gesture of mutual success."

Booth chuckled.

"Yeah, that's my Zack for sure."


	5. Chapter 4

S01E08 – The Girl in the Fridge

**Author Notes:**I change the character highlighted on each scene. Words in italic are their thoughts. Underlined words are other character's thoughts.

Main characters in each scene are Angela Montenegro (The Bad News), Temperance Brennan (The Dinner, The Taping, The Grade and The Jury Consultant) and Vincent Nigel-Murray (The Tar and Feathers).

* * *

Chapter Four

In which bad news abound and Vincent shows some spine.

Break Room

Jeffersonian Institute

Angela was sitting on the couch, facing her best friend. An awkward silence filled the room while she tried to think of a way of approaching this particular topic. She decided to be blunt, Brennan responded better to that.

"Do you really think he can handle your success?"

"Because of today?" – She considered it. – "No, we've always been competitive."

"I know, but he's a man and his student, a woman, has surpassed him."

"Michael is extremely secure, Ange."

_And I'm the queen of Brazil. Sweet gig, too._

"Honey, when you stuck it to him today, he was upset."

"It was a healthy debate between scientists. You don't know Michael."

"I know men. And I know what happens when two people start sleeping together."

The forensic anthropologist crossed her arms.

"It's not like that." – She glanced at the door, fingers playing with her clothes. – "We're friends, colleagues, that's all."

"Colleagues with benefits."

"I don't know what that means, but Michael and I are not involved." – _That's the best I've heard all day. _– "I'm sorry if that's difficult for you to understand but what we have isn't traditional."

"Don't talk to me about traditional. Okay? I've dated circus people. You and Michael, you have something, and that's okay. That's good, even. Just be honest about it."

"Bones?" - Booth called out as he walked up the stairs to the lounge, followed by his lover.

The artist could tell that storm was brewing by the face Zack was making.

"The judge is holding them without bail."

"The U.S. Attorney is thinking about sending you flowers."

"The facts are facts."

The squint bit his bottom lip as he nudged his FBI agent to tell her the bad news.

"Uh, Bones, I have to ask. How much have you been sharing with, uh, the professor?"

"None of your business." – But the pink tip of her ears didn't leave much to the imagination.

"I mean, on the case."

"Oh. I bounce everything off him. Why?"

"Well, you gotta keep him out of it from now on."

"Out of it? Why?"

"Well, you know that appointment he had today?"

"Yeah."

He kept looking back to Zack for some reassurance. The squint decided to take the lead.

"He met with the Costello's lawyer. Michael is their expert witness." – Brennan's jaw dropped, but he still delivered the killer blow. – "It's his job to tear apart the case that we've built."

Angela sighed.

_Of course._

* * *

Stella d'Italia

Washington D.C.

It was the fanciest place that Brennan had ever had an argument. In their normal tone of voice, any louder would get them thrown out. Basil filled the air. The red tablecloth combined with the low illumination created an eerie scarlet shade on every surface.

"How could I not be upset? Basically, you were spying on me."

"Spying? It's a criminal proceeding. You're required by law to disclose all your findings to the defense anyway."

"I'm only required to provide you with the raw facts we intend to enter into evidence, not the process by which I arrived at those facts."

"I apologize. That's a nuance that escaped me."

_Why do I not believe that?_

"Why didn't you just tell me, Michael?"

"Because the defense isn't required to tell the prosecution anything. In fact, it's grounds for a mistrial. Look, I've never done this before. You're the teacher in this situation. I'm the student."

"A little competitive."

"Part of the job at the university is to be an expert witness and yes, I would like to do that job at least as well as you, but if you feel I've overstepped some boundary here, I'll back out of the case."

_I should ask him, but that would only be because of what I'm feeling._

_I am not the type of person to be governed by her feelings._

"No. But if you stay on, you have to move back to the hotel."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Michael chuckled.

"Well, would I have to do it tonight or should I order another bottle of wine?"

Brennan weighed the options, hands on the silver knife.

"I suppose tomorrow would be soon enough."

"I apologize, Tempe."

He smirked as they kissed.

* * *

Forensic Platform

Jeffersonian Institute

Wendell isn't the scariest man in the Jeffersonian Institute's payroll, as Michael had hoped. Doctor Goodman was happy to correct the enemy's assumption, standing tall beside the scariest maiden, observing as Brennan stared and the male squints videotaped the former professor.

Booth swiped his card, walking up to the two glaring squints.

"He still at it?"

Angela sighed.

"Yep." – She gave him a fake smile and a healthy dose of sarcasm. – "And it is fascinating."

"That bad, huh?" – The artist's scowl was answer enough. – "Keep an eye on him."

"That's not going to be a problem." – The head of the Jeffersonian nodded at the squints.

They all nodded back, their cameras locked on the guy examining the bones as Brennan watched, a heavy taste of metal on her mouth. She stopped biting the pencil she had in her hand, but the taste didn't go away.

Her mind quickly went to the usual diagnosis with that symptom - _chemical poisoning, dental conditions, gastritis, heartburn, jaundice and stress._ – She sighed under her breath.

_Stress sounds like the most obvious diagnosis._

Zack caught sight of his lover, smiling back at his thumbs-up. The other three squints returned the gesture.

"Did you just give Hodgins a sign of encouragement?"

"Yeah. You know, that's the first time I've been able to look at him without imagining Tom and Jerry hitting him with frying pans."

"Agent Booth, you're accessing your inner squint."

"Don't tell them that."

Even though Zack probably figured that out already.

Michael leaned to take a better look at the skeleton's leg.

"Tempe, you listed an evulsion fracture on the right femur. It looks minor. Do you consider this evidence?"

"Doctor Brennan's conclusions belong to the prosecution." – The FBI agent's rough tone left the implied threat just beneath the surface.

"I have no interest in destroying your case, Agent Booth." – That's the description of your job. – "I'm just trying to get a sense of-"

"Of her interpretations of data, to which you are not privy, Dr. Stires." – Doctor Goodman managed to draw a shiver from the younger man.

"I understand the game the doctor is trying to play and I'm perfectly capable of dealing with him myself. I'm sure he's just thrown by findings he would have missed."

"This is not about you and Dr. Stires. This is about the Jeffersonian's reputation as a source of expert witnesses." – Another shiver.

"Okay, I'm" – A gulping noise. – "I'm on my own. Oh, in the interest of fairness, I am willing to share my thoughts with you." - Michael handed Brennan the papers he'd been taking notes on. – "I red-penciled a few things."

"You corrected my findings?"

"Consider it an opposing opinion."

_It is because of stress._

"My findings are based on facts, Michael, not opinions."

A kitchen timer started ringing until Angela threw it all the way to her office. ('What? It's very sturdy.')

Doctor Goodman cleared his throat.

"You seem to have finished your allotted time with the remains, Dr. Stires. I'd like my people to get back to work."

"Thank you."

The former professor smiled at Brennan, who responded with a tight lips smile, metallic taste back with full force.

* * *

Doctor Temperance Brennan and Mister Zack Addy's Office

Jeffersonian Institute

She kept pacing around the office, fuming. _Who was he to question hard evidence? People lie but bones cannot create fake evidences._ Booth let her calm down a bit before entering the room.

"Bones, you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because the nutty professor's grading your paper. What'd he give you anyway, huh? I was always happy with a B."

"I never got a B and I never will." – She had fire in her eyes as she stomped back to the quickly vacated platform.

"That's my girl."

* * *

Angela Montenegro's Office

Jeffersonian Institute

The queen had called for a meeting regarding the invader. Her consort and most of her knights were in the throne room conversing amongst themselves. Her handmaiden, Lady Temperance, was not invited due to her relationship with the spy.

"We have to do something about Michael. I was thinking along the lines of complete humiliation."

"Complete like tar and feathers or complete like tying him naked to a flag pole?"

"I like the way you think, Wendell. Tar and feathers actually sounds better than what I had planned."

_I don't even want to know._

"I know where we can get some cheap tar." – Hodgins wrote down a telephone number before giving Angela the strip of paper. – "This guy is the best. Just say it's for an experiment, he'll find any existing chemical compound."

"Even the illegal ones?" – The All-American squint distanced himself from the group.

"Well, no. Believe me, I tried."

_Again, I do not want to know._

_He and Angela really do belong together; they even have the same taste in hobbies._

"I know where to get feathers."

"Zack, if you are thinking about ripping up my pillows…"

"It's not like you use all of them."

While the artist convinced the entomologist to contribute to the war effort, Vincent strode up to his lover.

"Dell? What is wrong?" – The Brit watched as the blond uncrossed his arms. – "You don't think this is correct."

"Questions work better when you don't answer them, you know." – He exhaled. – "It just doesn't seem right. I know the guy is morally corrupt, but still…"

"If it makes you feel better, you probably saved him from a much worse fate." – His hand gripped the other man's right arm. – "Do you want to get away from here?"

"Won't that get you in trouble with Ange?"

"Yes." – He let them out of the office, chest out and straight shoulders, almost threatening the artist to try anything against his All-American squint.

* * *

Special Agent Seeley Booth's Office

J Edgar Hoover Building (FBI)

The office was crowded. Five people in a room a bit bigger than a cubicle would make many people claustrophobic. None of those people were in the room.

Zack stayed behind the desk, while his lover introduced the other three people.

"This is the U.S. Attorney Levitt, jury consultant Joy Deaver. Dr. Temperance Brennan. Mister Zack Addy."

Damien Levitt was warm. The way he smiled, showing his pearly white teeth in contrast with his beautiful dark skin, as he talked tended to defuse any bad will towards him. A very useful skill for a prosecutor.

He was the kind of guy who believed in the justice system, working to improve it.

"Nice to meet you." – The anthropologists shook hands with the other two people.

"I looked over your findings and I think we're in good shape."

"Thank you. I-"

Joy Deaver was the Joker to Brennan's Batman. Mostly because she would always have a smile on her face. It was so blatantly fake, even the anthropologist could tell.

She thought bad news should be delivered with a grin, even a phony one. She tucked her hair behind her sun-kissed ears, as to not disturb her sight when she confronted Brennan.

Joy cut her off.

"But juries don't like you."

"Excuse me?"

"I've seen you testify before, Dr. Brennan. You come off cold and aloof. I want to make sure-"

"Cold and aloof?"

"Try not interrupting. It makes you sound arrogant." – _Like you did._ – "Also, don't front-load your testimony with technical crap."

"This really is not the best approach." – Zack gestured for the men in the room to take cover behind the desk.

"I'm a technical witness. I have testified in over 30 trials."

"But most of the experts you've come up against are as dry and boring as you are. Now I don't know if you've seen their expert-"

The attorney slipped behind the wooden barrier.

"She's seen him, Miss Deaver." – Booth placed himself in front of his squint.

"Well, then you understand my concern. Professor Stires is open, charming, great-looking. Jury's gonna love him. I love him."

_I cannot believe you._

"This isn't a personality contest. It's about data that we present to the jury."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"The women on the jury aren't going to be listening to a work that comes out of his mouth. They're going to be undressing him. I don't want the men on the jury to be putting more clothes on you. Wear something blue. It suggests truth. Make eye contact with the jury and lose the clunky necklace."

"Mary and Scott Costello murdered Maggie Schilling. The forensics data we've compiled proves that. That should be enough."

"But it isn't enough."

"Okay, that's… that's great." – He had enough, escorting the annoying woman out of his office. – "We'll, uh, take that under consideration. Thanks."

"I would stay and apologize for her, but she's my ride." – Levitt smiled again, disappearing from their sight.

"Why didn't she say anything about you?" – She was clearly upset. – "You can be very irritating sometimes."

"Bones, she's an expert, just like you. Just try?"

"She has an obvious personality disorder, but she wants to help." – Zack offered a small smile.

"Okay, sure."

"Good."

The squint's sigh was inaudible to all but the FBI agent.

"Thank God."


End file.
